Chapter 1

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King T'Challa stood on the marble steps of his palace. His body guards stood a few steps behind him and lined the carpet which had been unrolled from the back door of a sleek black limo up to his feet. T'Challa had always hated visits of State. The closest he had ever come to enjoying one was when he had met the Black Widow. Unfortunately, that State visit had been ruined when his father had been killed, firmly cementing his distaste for functions of State.

Unbidden, the king's thoughts travelled through his vast halls up to a top security room that only had one thing in it: A cryogenics chamber. And in that chamber a single occupant: James Buchannan Barns. Bucky had started out as T'Challa's enemy, but as more evidence had come to light after the previous king's demise, T'Challa had found himself protecting the Winter Soldier.

"Your majesty," T'Challa's chief of security hissed. "Your mind is wandering." T'Challa shook himself and smiled as the door to the limo opened and three people dressed in the unmistakeable attire of delegates. A man and two women. The new American Ambassador and his family.

The ambassador was a tall, powerfully built man with light brown hair cut military-short and cold blue eyes. His jaw was square and hard. He wore a crisp black suit with a white shirt and a star-spangled tie. His shoes where brightly shined and clicked as he walked, even over the carpet.

The two women were very similar in appearance. Both were tall and slender. The older woman had her brown hair pulled into a bun. There were some grey strands in her hair and fine lines around her dark restless eyes. She wore a black skirt and a white, long sleeved blouse, buttoned all the way up so she almost appeared to be choking. Her shoes were also shined, but the sound of the heels was muffled by the carpet. Both were beautiful, although there was something about the mother that seemed to mar the beauty somehow.

The daughter seemed to almost dance down the carpet, her movements were so lithe. Her dark chocolate brown hair was pinned back from her face and fell in loose waves down her back. Her chocolate coloured eyes sparkled with life and intelligence. She did not immediately strike one as a delegate of some sort. She wore a bright red dress with a definite late forties/early fifties vibe. It had a modest V-neck and puffed short sleeves. The skirt flared from her natural waist to just below her knees. She wore matching red kitten heels that made no noise as she walked. Her make-up was also obviously forties inspired. T'Challa was struck by her make-up because her mother didn't seem to be wearing any which he thought was odd. His understanding of American women was that most of them wore make-up, especially those in the public eye.

The ambassador led his wife and daughter up the steps until they stood before T'Challa. "Ambassador Brandt," Brandt bowed low. "Welcome to my country"

"Thank you, Your Highness. It is our pleasure to be here." T'Challa looked at the ambassador's daughter in surprise. She had spoken his language flawlessly, with only a slight accent.

"Miss Brandt, you know our language?" T'Challa asked, "This is indeed an unexpected pleasure, as our country has so recently opened its boarders to the world."

"If it please Your Majesty, call me Louise." Louise

"How old are you, Miss Louise?" T'Challa asked, suddenly curious.

Louise laughed and her dark brown eyes sparkled, "Young enough to not be offended by that question, Your Highness. I just turned twenty one last week." At this point, Ambassador Brandt coughed and nudged his daughter. "Oh," Louise switched back to English to include her parents in the conversation. "Your Highness, you obviously know my father, Ambassador William Brandt, and allow me to introduce my mother, Elise Brandt." Louise paused as if she were merely taking a breath, but Ambassador Brandt broke in. Now that the conversation was in English again, he was ready to assert himself and show the king who was ambassador.

"We are deeply honoured that we have been invited to live in your country. And bring some civilization-"

"Dad, shouldn't we allow King T'Challa to do most of the talking right now?" Louise asked. She didn't look at her father as she spoke. Instead she cast a worried glance at the blindingly white steps of the palace, as if afraid of the consequences of interrupting her father. Mrs. Brandt flinched ever so slightly and didn't say anything. T'Challa noticed the tension, but decided to let it pass.

"Come, there is an excellent feast awaiting your arrival." With that, he offered his arm to Louise and led her into the palace.

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